I‘m a Christian, a Jesus follower, a sinner saved by grace, a human indwelled by the Holy Spirit of God. One who claims the continuous availability of the power and fruits of the Jesus life. And yet … I turn into a self-righteous Pharisee within milliseconds of seeing a college basketball coach throw hands at another coach. Like the incredible hulk when he gets angry, I become a high and mighty judge when I see two grown men fight in a setting like this on national television.
“What was he thinking!?” … “Both coaches ought to be ashamed of themselves!” … “How could they stoop to such a level?”… “If I were the NCAA, I would throw the book at him!”
Then, to make matters worse — when the sanctions are handed down, I continue with my “better and more holy than you” thinking.
“Is that all? Good grief!” … “That’s not fair!” … “Shouldn’t both coaches be fired?” … “The NCAA was too hard on this coach and too lenient on that coach!”
You get the idea. I’m quick to pick up stones. “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”

In case you are unaware, I am writing about the recent incident between Michigan’s head men’s basketball coach Juwan Howard and Wisconsin’s head coach Greg Gard. Coach Howard thought coach Gard shouldn’t have called time-outs at the end of their game. Coach Gard thought otherwise. Things got heated in the “good game” handshake line, and, punches were thrown. Suspensions were handed down. Apology statements were issued. Sport pundits talked and talked and talked about it, offering their opinions of the situation. We all got to play judge for a day or so.
To be sure, accountability for this sort of thing should occur. Coaches yelling and throwing punches at one another should never — ever happen. This is basketball, not ice hockey. The NCAA is right to ensure measures are in place to prevent similar incidents in the future. Yes. Yes. And yes. This is good and right and, ultimately, a universal grace for everyone.
But it is frightening how quickly my inner Pharisee emerges, demanding justice be served to those deserving of punishment. I am mortified how quickly and unconsciously I sit on my throne of self-righteousness. How quickly I can become like Bobby Knight, throwing chairs on to the court over how terrible other people are.
I wonder how the God views such incidents? I mean, how does God treat Juwan Howard? Sure. There are consequences to his actions. They are necessary and good and right. But consider, if only for a moment, how God looks at Juwan Howard for what he did Sunday afternoon? I dare say that our thoughts on how God sees coach Howard’s actions will reveal a lot about what we believe about God.
What would God say to the coach who threw punches in a fit of blind rage? I believe He would want the coach to know that He loves him. That it’s okay. That it’s not the end of the world. That being known in the kingdom of heaven as a “righteous and holy and loving man” is available. I believe the Father would empathize with the coach. He would ask questions like, “Why did you get so angry, really?” Or, “Why did you feel so threatened in that moment, really?” Or, “If you have a losing record and lose your job, then what?” Or maybe the Father would simply say, “Coach Howard, take a nap. When you wake up, when you’re ready, tell me anything that’s on your mind.”
I’m not sure. But what I am certain of is how quick I am to not want to treat others the way I want to be treated. When others act like that … I judge and condemn as if I’ve never heard the word “grace.” When I, however, do the same things — in different ways — I know precisely what I need and long for.
People can lose their temper when they are insecure, afraid, feel threatened or any number of other factors not all that dissimilar to my own quick-triggered self-righteousness. Perhaps I still carry with me the thought that God is angry at my failures? Or embarrassed, perhaps. Maybe, just maybe, the reason Jesus said that loving others as yourself fulfills the law and the prophets because it is a picture of what all so desperately need: grace. Better yet, it’s not a picture. It’s reality. Jesus treats us — all of us — not as we deserve … but as we ourselves most want and need and long to be treated.







